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max 1d
the honey drips slowly onto the gray tiles on my kitchen floor.
the honey drips,
it drips,
and it drips.

let me repeat that.

the honey drips,
it drips,
and it drips.

it drips so slow.
so slow.
like the progression of this poem.
idek what this poem is about but i like it
max 1d
the pressure's getting heavier
i need to figure myself out fast
i don't have any time for fun
i need to focus
but where's my focus?
why's it down the street?
i can't do this,
i guess i'll wait til it's back.
but it never comes back
im stressed lol
max 1d
The smell of rain
comes into the room with him.
My heart sunk to my stomach.
As hard as I tried,
I couldn't move.

Fight, Flight, or Freeze?

The sound of his voice filled the room,
and it blurred the rest of my life.
The smile left my face when I heard him.
There he was,
and here I go
I ran as far away as I could.
I had to make sure he was gone.

Fight, Flight, or Freeze?

But I can't fight,
can I?
He fills me with fear,
leaves me speechless in the worst way
makes me leave the things I love most,
just to feel safe within my own mind
As much as I may want to fight,
I can't.
I'm too scared

Fight, Flight, or Freeze?
Flight or Freeze?
also about that ex
max 1d
"it's dark now.
i know a storm's coming, i can feel it,
but i still want to see the moon tonight.
i miss her." she spoke out into the darkness.
"i missed you" i say, but i know they cant hear me.

"look at the moon," she spoke softly
and all their heads turned to me,
they whistled, hollered, and cheered,
exclaiming their desire to match my beauty.

the girl spoke again,
softer this time, almost a whisper,
"look at her glow, her luminescent charm,"

i always feel the love they send to me,
i wish they knew i love them too.
the moon is cool and pretty.
max 1d
"What do you think people think of you?"
The answer you want is a lie.
You want me to say, "they probably think I'm intelligent, handsome, strong, resilient."
But I don't think so.
I think they'd think I'm weak, stupid, ugly, fat, terrible, useless,
Because I think I am.
I think I'm disgusting.
I would never think so about someone else but,
I'm terrible,
I'm an attention *****,
I'm hideous,
I'm faking this,
I'm the worst person I know.
man, i've gone through too little to be this traumatized. i always feel like i shouldn't feel like this because people have it worse than i do, but my feelings are valid i guess.
max 1d
i can feel your hands on me still
and your lips on mine.
i can remember the times ive just stood still while you kissed my neck.
the times that i didnt want to be there.
the times i let you grab me.
the times you grabbed me when i didnt want you to.
i hate you,
and i hate myself because of you.
you make me feel disgusting,
like a grey, chewed up piece of gum.
you never loved me did you?
im just another pair of **** and a *****, right?
you disgust me.
but i disgust me more
because of you.
el-oh-el. this is about my abusive ex
max 1d
sorrow fills my body but i don't notice
until it's too late.
but when is
"too late"?
is it when my tears are barreling out of their ducts like tsunamis?
or when i can't get out of bed more than twice a day?
or when i don't know if the reason i can't breathe is the weight of melancholy on my chest or not?
or is "too late"
the beginning of it all?
when is it "too late"?
"too late" has a certain ring to it.
it sounds
like when you're rushing to get someplace important but you trip and fall
and realize
that it doesn't truly matter.
because nothing does.
when is "too late"?
i hope your day/night is going well.
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